


A Long Time Coming

by Lillian_Small



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Jake is my sunshine boy, One Badass Cop and The Other Doesn't Do His Paperwork
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-20 14:30:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11922873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillian_Small/pseuds/Lillian_Small
Summary: What happens when you and Jake get drunk after a case with a lot of pent up pining.





	1. The Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake Peralta: awesome cop, die-hard Die Hard fan and your best friend. On one of your customary after case drinks, things take an unexpected turn. Perhaps you should add crush to that list.

"I bet I know your face better than you do."

You rolled your eyes. You and your best friend, Jake Peralta, were at the bar, celebrating closing a case which had been a pain in both of your behinds for so long. Now that it wasn't constantly on your minds, you could both afford to kick back and relax. Or, in your terms, get drunk and chat shit for hours then turn up to work the next morning and compare hangovers. Things had escalated pretty slowly until Jake threw his wild bet into the ring. "You're kidding me, right? It's _my_ face." you scoffed, wholly unconvinced by his statement.

"Yeah, and I have to look at it every day." he countered.

You took a swig of beer. "Poor you."

"It is poor me. I've seen Halloween masks that are less frightening than your face on a morning." You knew he was joking but you made sure to punch his arm for good measure. "Ow! (Y/n), you know that's my favourite arm!" he whined.

"Tough. You insulted my favourite face." Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you were aware that didn't make much sense but after a few drinks, you did tend to lose that ability. "Go on then," you challenged, taking another swig of beer, "Ten bucks says you can't find something about my face that I don't know."

"You're on." Jake replied confidently.

"I can do an I.O.U, if you want." you suggested as he began to scan your face. Jake was notoriously bad with money.

"No need because I'm going to win." You raised an eyebrow but didn't say another word. Somehow the way he was looking at you had rendered you speechless and started to heat up your cheeks. He was so focussed with a slight upturn on the left side of his mouth - a look you'd seen many times before when at a crime scene. But this time it felt different. Perhaps the drink was affecting your brain more than usual.

 

After a few moments, Jake stopped and looked directly into your (y/e/c) eyes. You could see him fighting the smirk on his lips. "You have a small mole just under your lip. On the right side." Your stomach sank. You couldn't remember whether there was a mole there or not. The drink really had addled your mind. "I do." you lied but he caught the slight inflection in your voice.

"Ha ha! I'm right. I am truly the greatest detective alive!" he proclaimed gleefully.

"Where exactly?" you asked shamefully. How could you not remember that mole? He jabbed the spot with his finger.

"There." It felt a bit warm and tingly where he'd touched you. It was the drink, you kept telling yourself. You then noticed how close Jake's face was to yours, a dopey yet smug smile adorning it. The warm, tingly feeling from beneath your lip spread through your entire body. You didn't know what it was - the drink, the atmosphere, the relief of solving the case - but, suddenly, you were grabbing his face and kissing him. Deeper and more passionately than you'd ever kissed anyone before. And he was kissing you back! This was the most bizarre thing that had ever happened but it felt so right. Sadly just as soon as the kiss had started, it was over. Your whole body felt so warm and fuzzy, and the alcohol definitely had nothing to do with it. Jake's face held a blissful expression; one you'd never seen him use before. "Well, I feel like that's been a long time coming." he said, breaking the silence. "Really?" You looked so confused. He chuckled and pressed a kiss on your forehead, and you didn't understand how your body could generate so much heat. "By the way, there isn't a mole where I said there was."


	2. The Morning After

You'd had worse hangovers. The sun streaming from the window had woken you up and the headache it triggered was mild compared to other times. Despite this, you had still been drunk enough to forget most of what happened last night. Temporarily. You couldn't believe it had taken this long to notice the extra weight slumped around you nor the feeling of someone else's legs intertwined with yours. This was new; you'd never come home from the bar with someone before. Except from Jake. Your heart rate quickened as you slowly turned onto your other side. Laid beside you was the man himself with a sleeping face so peaceful that you couldn't help but smile. The whole situation felt surreal and became even more so when last night came flooding back to you. The first kiss then more kissing and a cab ride back to Jake's apartment. More kissing and then -- oh, God! You'd had sex! After months of secretly wishing something would happen between the two of you, it had all happened in one night. You knew you should both be getting up for work at any moment but you wanted to treasure this for a little longer. So you rolled back over and took in the sensation of being enveloped by him. 

* * *

 

Jake embraced the sight before him - you in just your pants and one of his t-shirts with messy hair, raiding his kitchen cupboards. "Well, this is a good morning." he commented, startling you a little. You turned to face him with a slightly annoyed look. "Do you have anything to eat in this house that isn't filled with sugar?" you sighed. All you wanted was something decent for breakfast that wasn't marketed at toddlers.

"Come on, (y/n), you've known me long enough to answer that one yourself."

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "God, your dentist must hate you."

"Joke's on you. I haven't been in seven years." he retorted proudly.

Your eyes almost bulged out of your head. "You think that's a brag?" After a few seconds, you added with a shudder, "Ew, I kissed you so much last night." 

"Yes, you did." Raising an eyebrow suggestively, he made his way over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. The blush that crept onto your cheeks was inevitable. "So, how you holding up this morning, Peralta?" you queried, changing the subject to the usual "morning-after" agenda. Except in this instance, it truly was. "Funny you should ask," he began, "because it's almost as if I had a shock last night, which sobered me up. Like, I dunno, someone unexpectedly kissing me, perhaps?" Your blush intensified, reminding you of how hot your face got last night. Someone probably could have grilled some burgers on it. Avoiding Jake's gaze a little, you broached, "Last night you said this was a long time coming. What did you mean?"

"Well, you're, like, the only person on the squad who didn't realise that I was...into you," he explained sheepishly, "I mean, the signs were there all along and me being the smooth charmer that I am, I'm surprised you didn't notice." You chuckled. "Plus, I may or may not have known that you liked me." You groaned, realising there was only one person who would have told Jake: your desk buddy and his other best friend, Charles. "Man, I can't trust Boyle with anything." you grumbled.

"He didn't mean to say anything. I was just talking about the dough ball-orange soda stakeout and how that's when I realised and he said --"

"No way." you gasped.

"Exactly." That stakeout was when you'd realised you might have had feelings for him. He'd brought you a huge box of dough balls, your favourite food, and it had just been such a good time. He'd been funny, sweet and just a jot self-absorbed (some of the sure signs that he was flirting yet you'd missed them). You'd been so focussed on denying your feelings that you missed him giving you heart-eyes at every opportunity. 

It was then that you caught sight of the time over his shoulder. "As much as I would love to stay like this all day, I'm gonna need to leave now so I can pick up breakfast on the way." you told him and his face fell a little.

"I can give you a ride. And we can stop for breakfast." he offered.

You gave him a peck on the lips. "I'd rather not give the squad any ammunition." He nodded and unwrapped his arms from your waist; the loss of contact and warmth immediately noticeable. "I guess I'll see you at work then." he mumbled downcast.

"How about I come round tonight? We can get take-out and watch Die Hard." Jake's face lit up again and you couldn't help but smile.

"That sounds perfect." 

* * *

 

"Detective."

"Detective." 

No-one noticed this odd greeting. No-one really noticed your lack of banter at the morning briefing. No-one saw that you and Jake were standing just a few millimetres closer to each other. You wanted everything to be normal at work but you couldn't even remember what normal was - all your mind and body craved was the evening you had planned, where it would be just the two of you again. Everyone on the squad was too busy to notice the subtle changes. But, of course, Charles could sense something. He'd already rushed over to Jake to find out what was wrong. "Did you have a fight? Did you call her walk weird again?" He gasped dramatically. "Did she insult Die Hard?"

Jake shook his head. "Everything is fine between me and (y/n), okay? Better than fine. Everything is...wonderful." he assured. But Charles wasn't having it. He took a second to take his friend in before concluding, "You had sex last night. I don't know how I missed that. I mean, you're practically glowing and I can smell the--" 

"Please don't finish that sentence."

"(Y/n) must be heartbroken."

"Why would (y/n) be heartbroken?" Jake queried loudly as a prompt for you to jump in.

"Yeah, Charles, why would I be heartbroken?" Boyle suddenly realised that he'd said something he shouldn't have.

He began to stammer out, "Well...she's your...b...best friend and..."

"Why is (y/l/n) heartbroken?" Gina cut in, clearly fishing for drama.

You sighed. "I'm not. Jake is welcome to sleep with whoever he wants. It's none of my business." 

"Thank you, (y/n). Now, if everyone can just go about their day as normal..." 

"Something is up," Charles interjected, walking back over to his desk, "And I will figure it out. Charles Boyle doesn't miss a thing." He attempted to sit down but missed his chair by about an inch so landed, with a thud, on the floor. You and Jake locked eyes immediately, sniggering. Boyle looked between the two several times before his eyes bulged and he exclaimed, "Oh, my God!" He scrambled up off the floor. "It was you! You two had sex last night. Yes! This is the happiest moment of my life. Tell me everything!"

You rolled your eyes as your cheeks flared red. "Way to go on subtlety, Boyle." you mumbled.

"I don't blame either of you." Gina voiced.

"Charles, you owe me $20." Rosa called from beside you.

"Why?" you enquired, hoping you wouldn't regret it.

"We had a bet. Boyle said you two would get together of your own accord but I told him it wouldn't happen unless you were both hammered. And I was right." The whole squad really did know that you liked each other. "I can't believe you slept with Jake. Come on, (y/n), I thought you had better standards than that." Amy scoffed.

"Thank you for your input, Santiago. But I am a prime specimen and (y/n) has impeccable taste." Jake bragged.

"Please stop discussing my sex life." you pleaded. Santiago turned back to her computer and, with a wink, Jake did the same.

"Does it still count if I'm discussing it on Twitter?" Gina posed. You just shot her a look. Boyle was still grinning madly before he rushed off to the break room. "Where's he off to in such a hurry?" Terry asked.

"To plan a wedding." you huffed.


	3. The Stakeout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Jake both realise that you might have something a little more than friendship on your minds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a slightly longer chapter but well worth the read. POV changes to Jake's in the middle. Loosely in spired by the episode "Stakeout". Enjoy!

Stakeouts - not the most exciting part of police work but it would be slightly more bearable with Jake. You had both been sequestered to a run-down apartment building, which was opposite a site where counterfeit goods were being stored and delivered. Again, not the most exciting thing but you had pleasant company. The last time Jake had been on a stakeout was with Charles and it had gone horribly wrong. Luckily, you were only there for two days so there wasn't much chance of you getting on each other's nerves. You chuckled at the thought of having a no-no list for Jake; you were sure there were many things that could fill it. "What's so funny?" he asked, turning from the camera equipment he was setting up to face you. "Just thinking about yours and Charles' no-no lists." He grimaced. "What would you put on mine?"

"Don't know. Probably something about your weird walk." he replied.

"Hey!" you protested, "My walk isn't weird."

He smirked. "When I walk next to you, it's like you're wearing moon shoes. You bounce. A lot." Thinking about it, maybe you did bounce a bit when you walked. "No, I do not." you lied, feeling your cheeks start to rouge.

"Sure you don't." There was a pause before he continued, "But, for the record, you walk weird and you take way too long to write stuff." You folded your arms defensively. "There's nothing wrong with taking pride in my penmanship. And neither of those things would work on the list. You can't tell me not to walk or write." Having finished setting up the camera, Jake took a seat opposite you, a testing look in his eyes.

"You seem to know the terms of the list so well. Go on, tell me what's on mine." he instructed.

"Oh, I will." You began to wrack your brain for things that he did that annoyed you. Something. Anything. There must have been something but everything you could think of just seemed sweet: the way he'd call you milady when trying to be a gentleman, the times when he'd reference Die Hard, his impressions that always varied in success. Jake's grin grew wider as he watched you became more frustrated. "Yes! You think I'm perfect. Everyone else looks flawed next to me." he bragged. You sighed, agitated at him and also yourself. He was Jake Peralta - there'd probably be a picture of him next to the definition of annoying in a dictionary. The only thing you could think to do was stick your tongue out. So you did before going to set up the computer as a distraction. "Wow, (y/l/n), real mature." he scolded teasingly. You rolled your eyes.

"You're one to talk, Peralta."

"You're one to talk." he mocked like a child. It seemed you'd used your eye roll too soon.

 

It was then that you remembered what you'd packed in your overnight bag. Once the computer was set up, you raided your bag to find the gifts you'd bought. "Jake. Catch." you called, chucking a packet and a bottle at him (the latter almost hitting him right in the face). "Sweet. Orange soda. And a pack of just blue M&Ms. You know how to look after me, (y/n)." He was grinning and you couldn't help smiling too - it was infectious. "Or how to spoil you." you countered. "You know, I'd probably put your weird eating habits on the list. Force you to eat healthily for the whole stakeout." He looked at you shocked as if you'd just told him you hated Die Hard.

"You wouldn't." he gasped.

"Oh, but I would." you replied, a wicked smirk creeping onto your lips. You didn't notice him gulp as you sat back down before he, too, was smirking mischievously. "Well, I guess if you got me food to make fun of me then it's only fair that I get to do the same." He slid a small pizza box over to you. When you opened it and your eyes went wide, he felt something weird bubble up inside him but he pushed it aside. Inside the pizza box were a tonne of dough balls and garlic butter. You grinned madly. "You got me dough balls?" you whisper-yelled. If anything was going to blow your cover, it was going to be surprise dough balls. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" you squealed before launching yourself at Jake and hugging him. Normally, at this point, you would have added an "I love you" at the end but it just wasn't coming. What the hell was wrong with you? "Love ya." you managed to spit out, hoping Jake hadn't noticed the hairs standing up on your arms.

"Noice. Smort." he retorted, hugging you back. That was the most amount of affection you'd ever get from him, which irritated you slightly.

"Aha! I'd put you deflecting my affections on the no-no list," you declared, "I'd rather you said nothing at all."

"Fine. But I'd put your, frankly, disturbing dough ball obsession down. And seeing as you wouldn't be able to have these ones, I'd make you watch me eat them." You removed your arms from around him. "That's cruel." you said, feigning hurt. Pouting, you plonked yourself on a chair by one of the windows. "That's right. Two can play this game." he bragged.

"And here's how you win," you responded coolly, "Shot-gun having the second shift. I'm sleeping first."

"No!" he exclaimed, annoyed he forgot you'd want to take the second slot. You got up from the seat to go to the bathroom, brushing his shoulder with your hand as you warned, "If I were you, Peralta, I'd sleep with one eye open tonight."

 

* * *

   


 

Jake was bored. Apart from a delivery at 11pm, nothing had stirred. This whole area of Brooklyn seemed to be asleep and he was at serious risk of going the same way. He decided to just get up and walk around, to maybe wake himself up a bit. Jake noticed you'd already made your mark on the place; the box of dough balls and a book holding your place at the table. He didn't understand how you found any time to read, especially at the alarming rate where you seemed to have a new book everyday. This one, however, seemed to be taking you a little longer. War and Peace, he read from the cover. The name seemed to ring a bell; you'd probably forced him to watch the film and he'd probably fallen asleep. "What?" he mouthed when he noticed the number of pages. He could probably use it to knock out a perp during a foot chase. His gaze moved over to you, asleep in the bed. He smiled at you, wrapped up in your own clean bed sheets from home. You always did have more common sense - Jake would have been happy to sleep in the sheets provided even though they could have been riddled with fleas. He also knew that you liked your home comforts and cared more about feeling safe than anything else. And he didn't mind, knowing those sheets would smell of you. Jake suddenly whirled round, overwhelmed by the thought and feeling pervy that he'd just been watching you sleep. Perhaps getting up for a walk around wasn't such a good idea after all.

 

Sat back at the window, Jake was narrating the goings on of a Pigeon Mafia, which had started up on the street below. The birds were currently harassing a crow that he had labelled as a mole, going under the alias Nige Po. It was mildly entertaining. Or entertaining enough to keep his mind from wandering back to you. More specifically, caring that your bed sheets would hold your scent. He could hear Boyle yelling at him in the back of his mind, telling Jake it was the most romantic thing he'd ever thought. But it wasn't romance; you were his best friend and he wasn't going to ruin that. He turned back to the pigeon street gang, which had finally chased away the crow. They had uncovered his true identity - Russell Crow. You would have laughed at that. Jake couldn't believe he was wasting all his best material when you were asleep. And that's when it dawned on him - he cared what you thought. He wanted you to laugh at his jokes and stupidity. He wanted your company. He always wanted to hear what you had to say. And, most of all, he wanted you to hug him and say that you loved him, even if he couldn't say it back. He'd been spending months trying to convince himself that he liked Amy but perhaps that was only because he was also trying to convince himself that he didn't like you. But he did like you. A lot. A warm fuzz settled in his chest. Well, this was a lot different to his last stakeout.

 

* * *

   


 

As much as you'd been itching to, you hadn't messed with Jake whilst he slept. Sleep deprived Jake was even worse than the normal one. It was amusing, if slightly creepy, to see his one eye following you before he drifted off to sleep. Apart from a delivery arriving at about 5am, nothing much had happened, giving you ample time to get a good way into War and Peace. You'd also managed to leave enough dough balls to last you the next day - a true miracle. However, you were getting bored on your own and the temptation to mess with Jake was too much. You grabbed one of the pillows from the bed and hit him with it. Hard. He let out a startled snort before slowly opening his eyes and stretching out. It was quite a sweet sight even if the price to see it was waking up next to him. Which, you supposed, you didn't really mind. "Morning, sleepyhead." you cooed teasingly. He smiled blearily; his eyes still half closed. "What time is it?" he asked although it sounded more like _Whatimesit_.

"9. But I'm bored."

"And you wanted my company? Aw, (y/n), you're so sweet." He held out his arms for a hug.

You took a step back. "I don't think so, Peralta." He got up from the bed and came towards you with his arms still outstretched like some sort of hug zombie. You couldn't get away fast enough; his arms wrapped around you, pulling you down onto the bed. "Jake, you idiot. What are you doing?" you hissed.

He just ignored you, saying, "This is nice" as he snuggled into you.

"Please don't talk. Your morning breath is awful." you urged.

"You can't say much, garlic mouth." he retorted. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth. Hopefully, Jake hadn't noticed how weirdly you'd been acting - normally, you would have just breathed all over him. He opened his mouth, probably to make a joke about warding off vampires, but you covered it quickly with your other hand. You swore you heard a car pull up. "What the hell?" Jake queried, his voice muffled by your hand. "Shh." In the silence, your heart rate quickened as you became hyper aware of his arm round your waist. You could both hear Boyle whooping in your minds about your current, slightly compromising position. You removed your hands from both your mouths. A door slammed. "It's a car." you observed. "Great solve, detective." he joked. You elbowed him before getting up and going over to the window.

 

"Black SUV." you told him, taking photos, "Licence plate on photo. One passenger: Male, 5"4'. Can't see the driver."

"Cool cool cool cool cool." he rattled off.

"Are you writing this down?" you asked.

"Why do I need to write it down? You've got it on camera."

You turned and gave him a stern glare. "Notepad. Pen." You motioned to the bedside table.

He sighed. "Yes, mom." He picked up the notepad, admiring your handwriting. It was pretty. Like you. He shook the thought away. "Get it together, Peralta." he muttered to himself.

"What was that?" you called from the window.

"Nothing." he replied unconvincingly. You came away from the camera, throwing him an incredulous look as you sat at the table. "You and Boyle should start a handwriting class. You both write good." he covered up poorly.

"Yeah, and you'd be our first student in an attempt to make your writing more legible."

"Some people have unlegible handwriting. You can't change that about me."

You shook your head. "I'd probably get you language lessons as well."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Not all of us can be smart **and** beautiful." Your eyes widened as your cheeks reddened, the compliment weighing more than he'd ever know. "You think I'm smart and beautiful?" you boasted teasingly.

Jake shook his head. "Nope. No. I take it back."

"You can't. But could you say it again? I wanna record it for use at birthdays and other special occasions. Like when I solve cases before you."

"That's one pleasure I wouldn't give you." He mentally face palmed; his mouth was running away from him this morning. You didn't notice, distracted by the sound of a car pulling away. "Damn it!" You rushed over to the window just in time to get some pictures of the vehicle pulling away. "God, you are so distracting." you huffed, turning back to Jake. He was finishing writing the notes - maybe your good habits were finally washing off on him. "What can I say? I've been told by many women that I'm distracting." You couldn't find it in yourself to laugh, to tell him they were probably calling him distracted (which he very easily was). The truth of the matter - you'd let yourself be distracted by him. Something very odd was going on with you. Jake noticed your lips purse into a small frown. "(Y/n)--" he began.

You interrupted. "I need to take 5."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm taking 5." you repeated, stalking off to the bathroom.

 

You splashed yourself with some water from the tap. Your mind was practically screaming at you, having already figured out why you'd been acting so unusually. Blushing, wanting his attention, your heart rate quickening when he touched you, buying him orange soda and blue sweets. But you wouldn't say it. You couldn't. He was your best friend and that was all. You were just confused, getting your signals mixed up. And you'd have to get over yourself quick. Because there's no way you'd admit to fancying Jake Peralta.

 

When you came out of the bathroom, Jake was sat at the window, watching the site through binoculars. He turned to you, hearing the floorboards creak beneath your feet. "Hey, you alright?" he asked concerned.

You nodded. "Felt a little queasy. I think I ate too many dough balls." you lied.

His jaw dropped. "I didn't think that was possible for you."

"Anything's possible." you replied, thinking back to your bathroom freak-out. You took a seat at the other window.

"In better news, I finally came up with our stakeout theme. It's a rap to the tune of the X-Files."

"I swear if you start singing, I will jump out of the window." you snapped. Sighing heavily, you added, "Sorry. I'm just..."

"Don't worry, I get it. I too get cranky when I eat too many carbs." he said, giving off the impression he cared about his diet. He internally whooped when you chuckled, glad that he made you laugh. "Here's a fun game. Let's see how many of these blue M&Ms you can throw in my mouth." He chucked you the packet. 

"I'm not a very good thrower." you warned. 

"Oh, I know." You threw the bag at his face and it hit him right in the forehead. Perhaps you were a better thrower than you thought. "Ow!" he yelled before gasping, "That's police brutality." You shook your head. He threw the bag back. "Come on then, (y/l/n), I'll give you a dollar for every one that goes in my mouth." 

Your eyes narrowed as you opened the packet. "Oh, you're on, Peralta."


	4. The Puddle Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You break your arm and lie to the squad about how it happened. The truth is altogether more embarrassing.

The elevator dinged and Jake stepped out into the bullpen, you following sheepishly behind. You told him not to make a big thing of it but he just looked at you and said, "Come on." Normally, you wouldn't have minded but the more people who knew, the more likely the truth was going to get out. "Ladies and gentlemen of the 99," he announced, "Can you give a huge round of applause for Brooklyn's finest and bravest detective? (Y/f/n)." He gestured to you and you stepped forward, holding your casted arm as high as you could get it. Clapping erupted from the bullpen and you took a bow. "That's awesome," Rosa piped up, "I mean, it would have been way cooler if you'd been shot, but still awesome."

"I can shoot you, if you want." Scully offered, reaching for Hitchcock's gun.

"No one is shooting anyone." Terry interjected, almost literally dodging a bullet.

"How did it happen?" Amy enquired, bringing the conversation back from its odd tangent.

"I was chasing a perp and lost sight of him. He came up behind me and slammed me into a wall. Hard. Almost snapped my arm in two. Had to fight him off with one arm until that dingus showed up." Everyone around the room looked at you approvingly. It was such a better story than the real one. Jake, ignoring your insult, had sidled up to the perp by Amy's desk. "Yeah, that's my girlfriend. She's super badass." he bragged.

"Peralta," Amy hissed, "He was arrested for groping women on the subway." Jake took a step away and warned, "My girlfriend. No touchy."

Charles was ecstatic. "This is brilliant!" he exclaimed, "Jake, this gives you the perfect opportunity to shampoo her hair." The whole bullpen groaned.

"Why do you keep bringing that up, man?" Jake asked frustrated.

"Because it's the most intimate thing a couple can do. A good old rub-a-dub in the tub." You pulled a face and Gina heckled, "Ew. Charles, that's nasty."

"What?" he queried innocently.

"Do you not hear yourself?" you queried back.

"I take it you're on leave from the field." Terry broached.

You nodded. "A whole six weeks until I get this baby off. Just me and my rolly chair for six weeks." You started off enthusiastic but you couldn't help faltering a little. It was going to be hard to stay at your desk all day. "It'll be fine, babe." Jake reassured. "You can do all my paperwork."

"I did not agree to that." you clarified. The door to Captain Holt's office opened and the man himself walked out. "Peralta, (y/l/n), my office, now. Briefing will take place once we're done." You and Jake looked at each other confused before making your way to the office. Gina stopped you to say, "If I sign your cast, you can brand it as official Gina Linetti merch and get a tonne of cash when you sell it." Your brow furrowed a little at the disturbing thought of some weirdo buying your cast. "I'll think about it." you replied before walking into the office.

 

Holt gestured for the two of you to sit and you did. You were both still confused as to why you'd been called in. Before you could even ask what this was about, Holt had already begun his interrogation. "(Y/l/n), you come into work with a broken arm yet I have no official injury paperwork. Seeing as Peralta was with you, I was wondering if either of you could tell me why." You mentally face palmed; of course you wouldn't be able to pull the wool over the Captain's eyes. "Here's the thing..." you began but Jake cut you off. "Would you accept that we're just two badass cops who don't do their paperwork?" he suggested. "No, I would not," the Captain replied, "Mostly because one of you is a badass cop and the other doesn't do his paperwork."

You smirked at this, especially as Jake whined, "Come on."

"From the lack of official paperwork or an excuse, and the fact that Peralta is involved, I'll assume that you were...doing something stupid." Holt theorised.

"Well, sir, this 'badass cop' is lazy. And, in conclusion, here we are." Jake explained bitterly. You jumped in. "That's not true, sir." Jake raised an eyebrow. "That's not entirely true." you corrected.

 

* * *

 

 

"Jake."

"Jake."

"I'm so tired."

"Why are we doing this again?"

 

Jake turned around, finally giving in to your whining. You were practically dragging yourself down the street. "You're not allowed to complain. It was your idea." he retorted.

"That was before Sarge coaxed me into doing a treadmill run with him. Mistakes were made." you grumbled. "It was your decision to get Chinese. I would have settled for pizza." He turned back around, takeout bag swinging on his arm. Recently, you had been encouraging Jake to do a bit more exercise. The only real workout he got was from chasing perps, which, in your opinion, wasn't enough. So, you suggested that morning that you should walk to get Chinese takeout after work. What you failed to remember was that the Chinese place was much closer to the precinct than it was to Jake's apartment, resulting in what felt like the longest walk of your life back to his place. "Jake, please slow down." you pleaded. He turned to you again, walking backwards to further rub it in your face. "I can't believe I'm faster than you for once. I really want a perp to come round the corner so I can finally arrest one before you get there." he bragged.

You rolled your eyes. "Please." you begged, adding a pout for good measure. He groaned and stopped walking. "Fine. You grab the food and I'll give you a piggyback." You caught up to him and placed a kiss on his cheek. "Thanks. You're the best."

"Yes, I am." You took the bag from him and jumped onto his back, him grunting a little as you got on. "Struggling, Peralta?" you goaded.

"No," he replied, sounding strained, "I'm just a regular Terry Jeffords."

You chuckled. "Sure you are."

"Look, I'm trying to be your knight in shining armour without a horse. I have to improvise."

"Giddy up." you teased.

 

You had got most of the way to Jake's apartment with only a few stops along the way for him to catch his breath. He stopped suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk. "What is it?" you asked, finding hard to see round his head. "There's a puddle." he told you.

"Just go round it." you said at the same time he announced, "I'm gonna jump it."

"No, you're not. There's precious cargo on your back." you warned.

"I'm not too bothered about the takeout." he replied. You whacked him in the chest with your spare hand. "It'll be fine." Jake reassured. "I'll clear this puddle and that's a Peralta guarantee." You rolled your eyes; his last Peralta guarantee ended up with him (read: you) paying for a whole shelf of broken dishes. He took a few steps back for a run up. In this scenario, it was either going to be you or the food. And as soon as his feet left the ground, you knew which one was going to come out the other end worse off. You landed on the floor, your right arm squished beneath your body, with the Chinese food safely in your left hand. "Oh, crap. That couldn't have gone any worse." Jake mumbled to himself. "You okay, babe?" he asked. You nodded. He noticed your pale face. "Are you sure? Because you don't look too good." The words "I'm fine" couldn't even leave your mouth before you groaned in pain as you tried to get up off the ground. Okay, your right arm was almost definitely broken. Jake was starting to panic. "I don't have anything cold to put on it. All I have is chicken and noodle soup."

"Jake, focus." you reminded him.

"Right. Yes." He crouched down beside you. "What do I do?"

"Phone an ambulance, you dum-dum."

He pulled out his phone and dialled 911, muttering, "You've been spending way to much time with Rosa." And that's the last thing you heard before you blacked out.

 

* * *

 

 

"So I was right." Holt clarified, leaning back in his chair slightly. "I think the lesson here is that (y/n) should have been more resilient in telling me to stop." Jake finalised. You shook your head. "No," you countered, "The lesson is that Jake should have known better than to jump a puddle with a person on his back."

"I say potato, you say 'Jake should have known better'."

"I would prefer it if you kept your personal disagreements out of my office." Holt spoke up. You nodded. "Of course, sir. And it would be greatly appreciated if you kept this to yourself. I don't want everyone knowing I got injured because of a Peralta guarantee."

"I am not one for gossip so your secret is safe with me."

"Really? Ray Holt isn't one for gassing by the water cooler?" Jake posed jokingly. Neither you nor the Captain cracked a smile. "Dismissed."

 

You and Jake left his office, and made your way to the briefing room with everyone else. "That guarantee was air-tight. I cleared the puddle." he said as if it made things better. You pointed to your cast annoyed and he just shrugged. "I'm still the victor."

"And I'm still mad at you." His face fell a little, worried he was screwing things up somehow. He was sure you were laughing about it yesterday, although that could have been because you were hopped up on laughing gas. "We're still good though, right?" he posed uncertainly.

"That depends. Am I allowed to be the little spoon for once?"

"Yes. Anything to make you not mad at me."

"You're not getting off that easily."

"Which is what I'll be saying to you tonight. Up top." He held up his hand and, rolling your eyes, you gave him a high five. Gina popped up between you. "You guys, this is a police precinct. No one wants to see you flirting." she told you disgusted.

"Alright." Jake left to sit in his usual seat.

"(Y/n), have you thought about it?" she asked, waving a Sharpie in your face, "I know lots of celebs sign in silver but, honestly, it's really tacky. Only real stars use black."

"You can sign my cast but I'm not selling it online." you replied.

Gina groaned. "Fine. But my autograph is highly sought after so it will cost you $15." You looked at her confused before you started laughed. She laughed too then deadpanned suddenly. "I'm not kidding." You smiled awkwardly at her, walking away to sit next to Jake. "What did Gina want?" he asked.

"To sign my cast and sell it online." you responded.

"You're not gonna do it though, right?"

You gave him a disbelieving look. "Of course not."

"Of course not." he echoed. "Which is good because I can mount it as a reminder that sometimes my guarantees work."

"It's being thrown away as soon as it comes off." you told him indefinitely.

"Cool cool cool, no doubt no doubt no doubt." he rattled off. You could tell he was going to try anything to get that cast mounted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone has any ideas for future chapters, please let me know in the comments :)


	5. The Warehouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Jake are tracking a very dangerous perp, Stanislav Dmitrov. The awesome warehouse showdown you had been hoping for takes an unexpected turn and Jake confesses something he never has before.

You and Jake were waiting at the entrance of the warehouse that your perp had been spotted around about 10 minutes ago. You were both buzzing with excitement; it was going to be amazing to catch him. Stanislav Dmitrov was under surveillance by about a dozen other precincts but, somehow, he’d managed to get away from every one. It would feel so good to be the precinct that finally brought him in. “You alright?” Jake asked. You nodded confidently. “Never better. Totally pumped to catch this guy.”

“What are the odds that I catch him first?”

“Like, 1000 to 1. I always get there first. I’m faster and I’m better.” you bragged. He raised an eyebrow.

“Alright, (y/n), you’re on. What do I get if I beat you?”

You thought for a moment. “Bragging rights.” you replied. “And if I win, you have to do all the paperwork for this case.”

You watched him try to stifle a groan. “That is a terrible wager.” Jake complained.

“Yeah, but you’ll get to lord it over me--”

“Deal!” he interrupted enthusiastically, “See you on the other side.”

“Yeah, see you. Loser.”

 

This was what you lived for. Heart beating fast, adrenaline surging through you, your movements swift and agile like a cat. God, you loved being a detective. There was still no sign of Dmitrov though. If you were a cat, he was a panther – able to lurk in the shadows and pounce with no mercy. He was dangerous; a manipulator, a murderer and a manic. Your breathing started to become shallow. So long to that excited feeling. You were so deep in the warehouse that you should have found him by now. Secretly, you hoped Jake had found him. Anything to make you feel safe. But he would have radioed you if he’d found Dmitrov. The panther was still on the loose. The sound of footfall echoed behind you. Turning sharply, you aimed your gun at whoever was there. But there was no-one. Just water dripping, you told yourself. You wanted to find Dmitrov so badly you were hearing things. Despite this rationalisation, you followed the sound with your gun pointed ahead. Just in case. A few paces in, something pressed up against your back. A gun, you guessed. “Put your gun down.” a man with a light Russian accent spat. Your breath got caught in your throat. Dmitrov had found you. You tried to keep yourself composed as you placed your gun down on the ground and turned to face him. “Hey, Dmitrov,” you greeted, trying not to sound nervous, “What a coincidence. We were looking for a completely different criminal and I bumped into you. This is…a surprise.”

“Make this easy for yourself. Do not make jokes, cop.” So, you wouldn’t be able to Jake your way out of the situation. You’d have to do it the (y/n) way instead. “Don’t try to run, Dmitrov. The warehouse is surrounded. You’ve got nowhere to go.” you told him, reaching for your baton in case he tried to flee. “You know, I wish you were right.” His words made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. “Here is what is going to happen. You are going to call your partner, we are going to have a little chat then you will let me go.”

“And why would I do that?” you queried, determined to not let him rattle you.

“Because I am pointing a gun at your head. And my men have eyes on your…little friend.” You gulped; you couldn’t let anything happen to Jake. You pressed the button on your walkie-talkie. “Peralta, I need you to come over here. I’m by the east exit.” you said.

“On my way. What is it?” he responded.

“Just…get over here.” Hopefully, he’d be able to figure out that something was wrong.

 

Jake’s eyes widened as he rounded the corner. When you’d radioed him, he thought you’d found a body or something else just as awesome. What he hadn’t expected to find was you with a switchblade to your throat, Dmitrov looming behind you like a bloodthirsty predator. Jake felt his heartrate quicken. But he knew that however scared he was for you, you would be so much more terrified. So he composed himself before speaking. “Hey, man. This is a surprise. We were tracking another perp and…”

“You two tell the same jokes. Sweet.” Dmitrov mocked. Jake took a step towards the two of you, causing the blade to inch closer to piercing the skin. “Okay. Let’s not do anything we’ll regret.” he cautioned, keeping his gun aimed at the perp’s head. One false move and the whole situation would go pear-shaped extremely quickly. Dmitrov sneered. “I would have no regrets in killing your partner.” You tried your hardest to mask a whimper. “Well, I would. So why don’t you put the knife down and--”

“Oh, no. For once, cop, you will not be doing the talking. I will. Now, put down your gun.”

“Alright,” Jake relented, “I’m putting down my gun.” He placed his gun down on the floor.

“Take off your vest.” He hesitated but you gave him a look that told him to trust you. If he did everything Dmitrov said, there was less chance of him becoming collateral. With a sigh, he took off his bulletproof vest and placed it next to his gun. “Much better. We have more of an equal footing. Now, listen carefully. I will let your colleague live if you let me leave. You will not follow me. And I will…how do you say? Skip town?” Dmitrov explained. You couldn’t think of a way out of this debacle. Well, you couldn’t really think of anything other than the coolness of the blade against your skin and the hotness of the Russian’s breath on your neck. “I can’t let that happen.” Jake replied coolly. Dmitrov’s hand twitched on the blade and you gasped. Your heart was thudding in your ears. This could be it- the end. “Do not make a stupid decision, cop. You are way out of your depth just like all the other precincts that have tried to catch me.” Your brow furrowed as a smirk grew on Jake’s face. Why wasn’t he panicking? “NYPD. You’re under arrest. Put down the knife and step away from the detective.” Rosa. You let out a long breath as the blade left your neck and Dmitrov stepped away from you. For the first time, you realised your whole body was trembling with fear. You honestly thought you were going to die. As much as you tried to fight it, your eyes brimmed over with tears and began to slide down your cheeks. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” Rosa was already striding away with the criminal in tow. You couldn’t deny how glad you were that the 99 had been the ones to finally catch that monster.

 

Once the sound of Rosa’s boots had stopped bouncing throughout the warehouse, you let out a sort of strangled sob. “I thought I was gonna die.” you whimpered, still shaking.

“Did you really think I would let that happen?” Jake posed. You shook your head – deep down, you knew he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. You flung yourself at him, almost knocking him over with the sheer force, and wrapped your arms around him. There was no stopping the tears this time. You were so, so thankful for him; his loyalty, his bravery, his care. Right now, there was nothing about him that you could think of to dislike. He was just such a good guy. You opened your mouth to speak but he beat you to it. “I love you.” he uttered. You were shocked by his words. You lifted your head up, blinking away any tears, to look him in the eyes; your face full of pride and adoration. This was the first time he’d ever told you and you knew how difficult he found saying this sort of thing. You were overflowing with pride. “When I said to Dmitrov that I would have regrets…that was the main one. I would have hated myself if something happened to you and I never got the chance to tell you. I mean, I think it all the time but--”

“I love you too.” you interrupted. Your heart felt so full. You reached up and stroked his cheek. He had that blissful smile on his face that made your knees go wobbly. “So much.” you added. Jake leaned in and kissed you. A warmth spread from your head to your toes, causing you to calm almost instantly. You adrenaline had finally been replaced with endorphins – love was literally flowing through your veins. And that feeling you’d been missing came flooding back to you. Safety. You broke the kiss to catch your breath. “You okay?” Jake asked.

You nodded. “Glad to know you’ve got my back.”

“Always have, always will.”

“Yeah, me too.” You paused, suddenly remembering something. “Even after all that paperwork?” you posed.

He groaned loudly. “Come on, (y/n), cut me a little slack. I just saved your life.”

You chuckled and shook your head. “Not a chance.” You pecked him on the cheek. He went to pick up his gun and vest then took your hand. "Let's get back to the precinct. All that bragging isn't gonna happen by itself."


End file.
